Scotch, Letters, and I'm Sorry's
by allyyyyy
Summary: With one word life came crashing down on Hermione and she lost everything she fought to keep. Now she's sitting back, thinking with a bit much to drink, and she writes a letter. A letter she didn't mean to send. Will it change anything? HrSS


**DISCLAIMER: I own no part of the Harry Potter series nor am I affiliated in any way with the writer (The BRILLIANT J.K. Rowling) or any publishers. I'm just a poor lowly student with a passion for manipulating her lovely characters**

**A/N: This is a _one-shot_ written from Hermione's POV. I'm not sure about it at all. It's mostly a dabble about how she's feeling and what has just happened in her life. It starts out as Hr/R with some mentions of D/H although it's more of a reference. So that means Slash but if you're opposed, like I said, it isn't much. Hermione's object of affection in the story is Severus. I have a soft spot. Do note though that this is a re-write of the end. I'm a perfectionist sometimes and I didn't really like the ending of the story. It's pretty much the same though written in a manner that I hope is much better. For all that asked, yes this is just a one shot, though I'm considering adding something else to it. I'm still deciding. But...To My Readers, reviewers will be showered with candies and flowers!**

.-.

Had it been so long really? Hermione poured herself another glass of the scotch that was setting upon her counter top. She couldn't remember now why she'd even bought it. As she downed what had to be the seventh shot, she realized she was only fooling herself. She knew why she bought it. That was his favorite drink.

Damn him. Even as she drunk herself into a bloody stupor he somehow wound himself up in her thoughts. Consuming her every being. Doing everything to wish she'd drink herself to death. As gloomy as it sounds, it was too true. She couldn't live her life this way any longer. But she was too much of a coward to take herself away. It didn't help that every day someone was telling her how much she had to live for. If they all only knew.

But they couldn't know, could they? Every one of them was so wrapped up in their own lives, their own love. There wasn't room to really worry about poor Hermione and her marriage problems amongst other things. And yes, she was full of spite. She loved her friends sure but something they were so sweet and sickening with one another it was too much to bear. The flirting, the kissing, the touching. She'd had it all once and she knew she was selfish but if she couldn't have it anymore then no one should be allowed to.

In school, Harry had always told her that he would be there for her always. If she ever needed anything, he'd stand beside her. But all of that was before Harry too fell in love. She would cut him some slack, for his choices were much harder to deal with then her own.

Harry had come out to his best friends sometime in their seventh year. He was so scared they'd promptly disown him over just that fact that he left out a major part of it all. He didn't just know he was gay but he a rather strange objection of affection. And that object of Harry's affection was none other than Draco Malfoy. Ron had been rather livid if truth be told. He wouldn't even look at Harry for the better part of a month. Though finally one night, in the common room, Ron looked at Harry, and asked him if he was certain that he could honestly love that bloody ferret. Harry had softly smiled and told him yes. Hermione knew instantly there was no one else for Harry. He was just one of those people. When he fell in love, that was it. She only hoped that the same was true for Malfoy.

It had taken a while for them to even be around the pair of them. It was one thing to know but Ron liked to avoid it all together. If he didn't acknowledge it, it would go away. But Hermione remembered catching the pair of them together down by the lake. They were snuggled up by the tree, clinging for whatever warmth they could find. Harry particularly was shivering. She watched the blonde scour the ground and finally procure a rock that he promptly transfigured into a deep crimson blanket, pulling the black haired boy against him and covering him with it. It was a rather simple gesture. And she assumed that it wasn't all for Harry but just seeing that he cared at all for Harry was enough. She knew that if Harry was that in love that it would be very hard to break his heart. Even for the Ice Prince himself. That was the day Hermione had non-verbally given Draco her blessing.

Now she was cursing herself. At least without Draco, Harry would be as miserable as she was. It was a terrible thought but misery loves company. And she wanted to wallow with anyone at that moment. Though she knew Harry wasn't ever going to have to suffer like she was. Certainly not.

The last time she had seen Harry and Draco, they had come over for a dinner and excused themselves to leave early and it was rather obvious the intent all along. The pair couldn't keep their hands to themselves. If she hadn't been so bitchy at the moment, she'd admit how sweet it was. Nearly ten years later and the passion that drove them was still burning brighter than ever. Now it just made her want to get sick.

Ginny had owled her the night before, with all circumstance aside. She'd told her she'd be there to listen to her excuses if she needed it. Sure, Ginny could say that, but she didn't understand. All of them were so full of ridicule, so angry with her, for what she'd done. And that was all Ginny would be able to hear. Excuses for why she'd messed up. It would never occur to her that there was some blame to be placed in her darling brother. Oh no, that thought would never cross her mind.

But then, Ginny almost fell into that perfect category with Harry and Draco. It was like some sick little club she and Ron had never been invited to join. The passion that Ginny held in her eyes when she was with Neville, or when she thought no one was looking, was obvious. Love ruled over mind. In fact, she figured that was the only reason she got an owl at all. Neville felt bad about all of it and didn't want Hermione to feel alone. But of course she already did.

Neville was more often than not the voice of reason when it came to Ginny. Very much like her brother, Ginny would fly off the handle and curse before thinking. Neville had to restrain her more times than Hermione could count. All he had to do was take her hand and she settle down and unruffled her feathers, realizing how rash she had been. The pair actually complimented one another very well despite her own feelings towards them.

And they did have rather adorable children. Ginny had two little boys that reminded Hermione so much of Percy that she wasn't sure that was a good thing at all. Both of them too smart for their own good but there was that streak of Fred and George in there somewhere. You could just tell after they'd switched their father's plants around and nearly cost him a few fingers. They'd toned it down a bit but their was no escaping the mischief in their eyes. Of course Fred and George just encouraged. She knew all too well from her own children.

Yes, her children. Camille and Jason. She loved them more than she ever believed possible. Camille had striking red hair, frizzy as Hermione's ever was. She wasn't the know-it-all type that her mother was though. She was more laid back. She just took what came. And she could ride a broom like Hermione had ever seen. Although she seemed to hold no interest in Quidditch for the most part. Jason was like a little miniature clone of Ron. Fiery red hair and a personality to match it. He lived and breathed Quidditch and visiting his uncles Harry and Draco, the best Quidditch player's Hogwarts had ever seen (in his opinion at least) was one of his favorite activities. And Harry encouraged it. He loved having Jase around. Hermione knew it was because he wished that he could have what they did. A family. But he didn't realize that all the while, Hermione was sitting back and wishing she could have what Harry and Draco had. Pure unadulterated love. She'd had it. Though things changed too rapidly for her to hold on tight enough.

And now here she was. In her nearly empty flat. It was just hers. After things had gone really bad with Ron, she decided it would be for the best if she left. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong, right? She'd even left the kids. She couldn't stand to make anything harder on them and taking them away from the little stability they had. Besides, all hell would've broke loose had Hermione attempted to leave with them. All the Weasley's would've hexed her as if there was no tomorrow. And she missed her kids more than anything. Even more than him. Though she ached inside to be with him again.

Hermione couldn't remember when she'd fallen out of love with Ron. Maybe she'd never loved him at all, she mused, as she poured another glass of the scotch. In school it had only seemed natural. After their Christmas Break in sixth year, she and Ron came back as a couple. Hand holding and snogging in the common room after hours. It was what everyone expected so she figured it had to be right. But no one had figured Harry and Draco would be together and they were so damn perfect. Everyone had been wrong.

Things had been fine for a while. Hermione suspected she had been so numb inside that it just seemed that way. She became the healer she'd always wanted to be and Ron had taken a job at the Ministry with his father. They bought a nice little flat near Hogsmeade and Hermione worked at St. Mungo's until Poppy announced her retirement at Hogwarts. Hermione pounced and secured her position. It gave her something to do. To really do. But more than anything, it gave her time outside of the confines of home in the evening. Often not returning at all. Ron had never complained. When he wasn't working, he was off cheering Harry on at some Quidditch game, or off with some guys from work talking shop and drinking way too much Firewhiskey. What did she need to be there for?

They continued on that path for a while before Hermione got pregnant with Camille. They both changed, they were around more, and Hermione thought they'd crawled out of the hole they had slowly dug themselves into. But it hadn't been the case at all. Cammy was born and her life changed a lot. She wanted to be home but not because of her husband. She wanted to be there for the baby, seeing Ron was just something that seemed to happen when she was there. She felt herself slowly drifting away again and at a chance to give her life again, she got pregnant again. Jason was supposed to be her savior. She'd get her life back. Be the girl she once was. That wasn't the case either.

Ron got a promotion and was in charge of his department which meant more work. She threw herself into her own job, the children slowly spending more and more time at the Burrow. Hermione slowly convinced herself that Ron was happier this way. She didn't see how terrible it was making him feel inside. She thought maybe that was what she wanted to see. To watch him go off, not caring if she were there when he got home. Not the vision that fell asleep in the chair waiting for her to come home. She blinded herself to that. All she would see was the resentment. But it wasn't for what she thought.

She was feeding herself lines, telling herself that Ron didn't love her and somehow she wound up some place she wasn't supposed to be, with someone she wasn't supposed to be with. She'd been faithful all of those years despite everything but as she found herself in the arms of another, she realized she'd never felt as alive as she did then. She found her reason to wake up the next morning and to live. Just so she could steal another moment with him. But guilt soon settled in and it hit her hard. She couldn't do it. She was hurting Ron enough.

So she gave him up. She put a stop to it at once. It hadn't been as easy as she'd hoped. The glares were still there but not the same. It was hurt and betrayal shining behind those eyes. She'd spouted so many empty promises to him. She knew deep down she'd never have left Ron for him. As much as she knew she honestly wanted to, she couldn't do it. And he knew it to but they both were living under some grand delusions.

She'd almost gotten away with it too. She'd come home from work, finding Ron curled up in the chair with the Prophet across his chest, and she instigated sex for the first time in a long time. She had to prove to herself that she didn't need him to feel alive. She didn't need him to be happy. But as Ron entered her, seemingly completing her, her mind and lips betrayed her, uttering a rather hoarse call of Severus. That had been enough. It was all over then. Ron pulled back very quickly and the yelling had begun.

She sat on the edge of the bed covered in the white bed sheets spilling it all. Her deceit, her emptiness, and her affair. She left nothing out in her tirade. She couldn't lie any longer. And she hadn't ever felt as bad as she did when Ron sat down in the armchair, tears spilling from his eyes, asking what he'd done wrong all along. She could still hear herself telling him that he hadn't done anything. And now, she she'd nearly finished the entire bottle of Scotch, she knew it was true. He hadn't done anything. Nothing but love her. And for that, he was punished.

So she'd packed her things and left. She left her husband, her children, her home, and moved out on her own. She flooed Harry that first night, a bloody mess. She could remember watching Harry's face as he was nestled in the soft armchair of his living room. Slowly his face contorted into anger, into what she thought had to be hatred. Draco slipped an arm around his shoulders from his seat on the arm of the chair but Harry brushed it off. He held her glare and got up, making a quick exit, not even looking back. Draco had crossed the room and hugged her though. He told her she'd get through this. He knew she would. He also assured her he'd pay dearly for rejecting the blonde himself. Hermione knew it was more for her benefit. Draco seemed sure Harry would feel bad for being that angry with her.

Now she wasn't so sure that wasn't the case. She'd pleaded with Severus after all was said and done. He wouldn't take her back. She'd blown him off for a man she didn't even love and now expected him to take her back like that after it all. She knew it was foolish but she had no where else to turn to. She felt so alone. So alienated. It became how she spent her nights. She'd open a bottle of alcohol and force herself to relive it all again. And at the end of each night, she'd sit down and write a letter, rather sloppily too. She wrote a different letter to a different person each night. She'd apologized to Ron, to Harry, to Ginny, to her children, and she'd even thanked Draco for his kind words that night. But she hadn't written the letter to Severus. She wasn't sure if she could. Tonight she would try.

She took another sip from her glass and dug out parchment and a quill. In her drunken state, that was a rather hard task to complete. Finally, she was settled and her quill began to write. It wrote everything. About how she felt when she was held tightly in his arms. The way her thought always settled back upon him when night fall hit. How sorry she was to hurt him like she had. How much she missed him. How she wished her would forgive her, even though she didn't deserve. She wrote that she knew he shouldn't, but if he loved her as he said he did, she wished he would at least try. She was miserable. And she folded the parchment up and handed it off to her own small barn owl. She took her glass with her, swaying with every step, into the bedroom. It was only seconds after her head hit the pillow, that she found sleep. Even if it were alcohol induced, it was the only sleep she could find lately.

.-.

Mornings were the hardest for her. In the past, when she awoke, she was never alone. There was that warmth from a body beside her to offer comfort. To make waking that much more bearable. Though this morning, like the many that had preceded it, she wasn't awarded such comfort. She noted that even the curtain rod which would normally house her own owl was empty. She closed her eyes a moment and the thoughts came rushing back to her.

The owl wasn't there because she'd sent a letter. A letter she hadn't honestly ever meant to sent. Normally, it would be locked away with the others she had written. Never had she intended them to be sent away for the person in question's eyes to read. And now, sitting at breakfast that morning, Severus would open the letter and all of the emotion she'd put into the letter would be revealed. But she wasn't sure if it would result in the positive outcome her drunken state had hoped for.

Was she wrong to even ask for forgiveness to begin with? After all, she'd stopped upon his heart in a most heartless fashion and then she thought he'd forgive her. She'd run from his quarters to the arms of her husband trying to remove the images that seemed burned into her mind to no avail. She didn't deserve it. She deserved what she was getting. Thought it became her mission at that moment to ensure the letter wouldn't reach the intended reader.

She rolled out of the bed and the wave of nausea that accompanied a heavy night of drinking hit her. And his her strong. The moment her feet hit the ground and she steadied herself it was a mad dash to the bathroom to empty her stomach in the toilet. She did what she did most morning. She cursed the alcohol and her stupidity for drinking so much, then she charmed herself from the urge to vomit. Though, a potion would be the only true cure and she doubted that morning she would be lucky enough to get one. She'd have to weather through it.

After she recomposed herself, she dug through her clothing for something somewhat presentable to wear. The first things she got her hands on were some of her muggle clothing which would look very foreign in the halls of Hogwarts that morning. She wore a pair of loose fitting jeans, tennis shoes, and an old Hogwarts T-shirt from years before. She thought in the back of her mind that she was pleasantly surprised it still fit after all these years. Her unruly hair was pulled back into an unruly bun but that was the last thing on her mind. Time was on her mind and she was running out of it.

The path to Hogwarts was taken much quicker than it ever had been before. The chill of the winter air, despite it efforts, wouldn't derail her from her goal. Though she hugged herself rather tight to fight off the breeze. She cursed herself audibly for forgetting to put on a robe or even to have brought her wand. In the flurry of the moment, the less important things were forgotten, only one thing on her mind.

As Christmas Break had just settled upon the school, she found the Hall nearly deserted upon her entrance. Which she figured was a good thing for the stares the stood shot at their medi-witch would've made her laugh had she not been so cut off. Dumbledore's may have been the most humorous although, as he always did, he seemed to know what had brought her there that morning. And she had been too late. The Head Table held a significant vacancy. The seat which was occupied by the Head of Slytherin house. Dumbledore informed her of it just to aid her mind. He'd gotten the owl and promptly excused himself for his own quarters. This meant Hermione would have explaining to do.

She was frantic in her search of the school. She tried his rooms first as the Headmaster had suggested but she met with no luck. His office and dungeons had followed next. The Courtyard. The Astronomy Tower. She'd even gone as far as to investigate the Room of Requirement. She had no luck. It left her with no option but to return home and ponder her foolish decision and the despair she was feeling because of it.

The walk back to her home, was a much slower one. Her arms ached from the cold but it didn't seem to bother her. She was running over the events in her head again. It seemed to be the fifth or sixth time but who was counting. She realized that she was growing to despise herself. So many years before she'd been so full of life, so sure of herself in everyone else's eyes. If her younger self could see her now, it wouldn't be pretty. She hadn't become the woman she wanted to be. She lost that confidence she'd had in youth. In its place, she learned deception, she learned to lie, and she learned to take everything for granted. It was pitiful. The angry smile she held upon her lips rewarded her with many weird stares from the residents of Hogsmeade. It surprised her that she didn't care.

She knew what they were whispering about her behind her back. How she'd broken her poor husband's heart and hadn't thought twice about it. How Harry Potter wouldn't even return her owls. The only response had been from Malfoy and everyone knew how he despised her. They spoke of her children as if they understood. And they didn't. They couldn't for she wasn't sure she did either. Hermione might have thought about cursing them all at one point until it all clicked for her. She had done all of those things. It wasn't a sick rumor or partial truths. She had cheated on her husband and now effectively lost him. Harry wouldn't speak to her, not even in writing. And she was certain her children would hate her after what their father would tell them. Fate had worked in a cruel way.

The warmth of her home was inviting as she opened the door. She slipped her tennis shoes off at the door with one thing on her mind now. Getting good and loaded. She didn't remember exactly when she'd really started drinking. One evening Severus had offered her some Scotch, she'd taken it. She couldn't think of herself as addicted. It just eased the pain that consumed her body. So her path was for the kitchen.

She smirked angrily once more. Alone at Christmas and having inflicted pain upon so many more. Happy Christmas indeed. She slammed the glass she'd retrieved from the cabinet onto the counter. Pouring her drink into the glass, she turned and the sight she caught surprised her. So much so that her drink was forgotten as the contents were spilt all over the carpeted floor of her kitchen. She wasn't the only occupant of the kitchen.

_"What are you doing here!"_ She sputtered out, surprise taking over her body now. She was more surprised she'd managed to form any words at all. Not in his presence at that moment. It was all happening so fast for her.

_"I got your letter,"_ His reply was spoke evenly. No emotion reflected in his face. Just simple. It did little to ease her mind. Hermione prided herself on the ability to read people. It indeed had proven to be of use through out her life. Severus had immediately become a closed book to her. No matter how she tried, she couldn't uncover in the inner workings of the man she'd come to love. She wondered if that was true in true love. It wouldn't be much fun if you always knew the thoughts of your lover. Though it would certainly be easier.

_"I know. I went to Hogwarts to talk to you about that,"_ She'd been holding out that perhaps he hadn't read the letter. There was always that slight chance and Hermione was hoping desperately. She hadn't been that lucky she realized.

_"I think it's too late to talk about this,"_ He concluded suddenly.

_"Sev, I'm so completely sorry about what happ...,"_ She started in a frantic ramble. She'd explain. That had been the intention all along, right? No. She didn't know how to explain. What could she say to him to make up for all that she'd done to hurt him?  
_"I said that talking time is over,"_ And he meant it. The brunette was swept close to him, their mouths meeting in what even Severus admitted was a long over due kiss. Hermione didn't miss a beat as she brought her arms around his neck, pulling him near to her. Clinging for what seemed like dear life. Afraid of the loss she'd feel again if she let him out of her grip.

As the pair of the pulled back from their embrace, air filling their lungs once more, she let her honey eyes lock upon his own dark ones. _"I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again,"_ She admitted, tears forming, against her wishes. Tears that desperately wanted to be shed. For behind the drinking and letter writing, all she wanted was to be held, like the moment she was caught in at that moment. Tears that could help cleanse her from the pain she'd caused.

_"I didn't think I would either. But I sat in my quarters, reading that letter, and I had to see you. Mione, I cannot lie to you. I've never been good at it. It hurt what happened. I think both of us were confused as to what we wanted. If it was worth what we'd be giving up. More so in your case, I'm afraid. But I'm not confused anymore. I know what I want. If you're unsure, I'm prepared to walk out your door right now and I won't come back. I need to know if you love me, Hermione. For you to really mean it,"_ Severus was never vulnerable. From the moment she stepped foot in his first class all those years ago to the last conversation they'd had. He stood strong and emotionless until now. He stood there before here, laying it all out. Prepared for either response.

_"Sev, I love you so much. You're what keeps me from feeling as though tomorrow may just be worth living after all. That I can just make it one more day, knowing I won't be alone. I can't apologize enough to you for misjudging those feelings,"_ The tears showed no mercy, pouring out in a torrent. Hermione clung even tighter to the robes of the man she loved. It would be the moment of truth she'd be dreading. She get a decision, though she wasn't so certain that now it might be the one she wanted. Had he come for one last kiss? It seemed so cruel but did she deserve anything else?

_"That's enough for me, 'Mione,"_ He captured her mouth once more in a kiss. But was that simply all it was? A kiss? To Hermione it seemed more of a promise. Not just of herself to Severus. Though that was part of it. It was something more than that. A promise that she wouldn't be alone. That life was going to deal her bad hands again but she'd be able to get out of them. She'd survive. So it was a kiss that could rival any Harry and Draco might through at them. And Hermione felt alive and she liked that feeling more than she had in a long time.

.-.

**A/N: Just going through and editting out the dialogue...still, if you haven't, review. I'd love to hear from you :-D**


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